


Ashes in the Wind

by ElmiDol



Series: TBT [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Suicide, Pre-TFA, Prisoner of War, Resistance!Reader, Some Alternate POVs, Some form of Kylo Ren obsession, companion fic, minor gore, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-06-14 20:51:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15397200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElmiDol/pseuds/ElmiDol
Summary: There was a misconception that life was linear when, in truth, it contained numerous segues and visits to the past. You could never be the person you were before that fateful day. The one that Kylo Ren had somehow knew he would develop feelings for. The person he had changed forever. Still, you enjoyed thinking of her from time to time. Remembering what you had enjoyed. Searching for an answer to the question: what did I do wrong? You did blame yourself, though you knew that you should not have. It was easy to do. Not that you failed to hold Kylo Ren accountable for his actions. It was a vicious cycle, wondering what you could have done to provide an outcome that had not led to so much death.This occurred back then. Not as a fantasy. It was what had happened. This was you.-----Companion Fic to Three Blind TookePOV Characters include: Reader; Ip; Kylo Ren





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Artemis_Hide](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Hide/gifts).



> At one point, I had started a mini chapter for TBT that contained RiF's playlist and a handful of additional scenes, mainly regarding Tooke/RC's training. It grew a bit longer than I thought it would, so I am doing this companion fic instead. It will largely consist of pre-TBT material, which will allow you all to better see Resistance!Reader and how much her life became devoted to hunting Kylo Ren. I also hope to include more information on the splinter cells. There will be a handful of TBT scenes retold in a different perspective; or scenes that were "offscreen" that will be available now because of the different POV.
> 
> Where each specific chapter falls into the timeline of the series will be marked at the beginning. Yes, you can request certain information and/or scenes. When RiF was first published, there were questions/requests from readers, and those aided me when I was writing the revamped version.

**Ashes in the Wind**

**Chapter One**

 

_Pre-Resistance is Futile_

_ Chasing Monsters _

 

There was a misconception that life was linear when, in truth, it contained numerous segues and visits to the past. You could never be the person you were before that fateful day. The one that Kylo Ren had somehow known he would develop feelings for. The person he had changed forever. Still, you enjoyed thinking of her from time to time. Remembering what you had enjoyed. Searching for an answer to the question: what did _I_ do wrong? You did blame yourself, though you knew that you should not have. It was easy to do. Not that you failed to hold Kylo Ren accountable for his actions. It was a vicious cycle, wondering what you could have done to provide an outcome that had not led to so much death.

 

This occurred back then. Not as a fantasy. It was what had happened. This was you.

 

_“You know what’s harder than dying, Ryoo-bud?” Hypothetical Ziff often caught you off-guard. Still, you hummed and looked his way. The man had made no attempts to hide the fact that he found you attractive, however he knew when to draw the line. It was one of the reasons he had grown on you. “Having to sit by while someone else does.” You furrowed your brow, your mind racing as you sought to discern the meaning behind his words. “A lot of us face it. You probably will… When you leave.”_

_“To be a long-distance shooter?”_

_“Yeah.” Ziff tilted back his head, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “You’re going to have a target…and… You will see others getting hurt, watch as they are murdered. You can’t move, Ryoo-bud. Don’t take your eyes off the target. You have to…”_

_You have to watch them die._

_He did not finish this statement, and you appreciated this beyond words. It was the ugly side of war, the gray area. Holding someone else’s life in your hands when you did not want to. A large part of you wondered if he was speaking from experience, but you were too afraid to ask._

 

Stomach roiling while the shuttle bounced and jostled its passengers, you mentally apologized to your mother for the umpteenth time for having run away to join the Resistance. Not because you were ashamed of your decision—you were in no way regretting it—but because you knew she was worrying. Even after the months had piled atop one another, you knew that she worried. You had changed your name to protect your parents. It had you wondering what sort of story had been told. Had they gone to the extreme and announced that you had perished? Perhaps a closed casket funeral? You bit down on the insides of your cheeks to hold in the snort. This did not stop you from rolling your eyes. You did not think your father would have allowed things to go quite that far. He had been preparing you for this decision your entire life, even if he had not known _exactly_ how you would act.

 

Eventually you would gather the courage to research it. The majority of your allies knew that you were from Naboo. Your mannerisms and apparent accent had given that away. Ziff’s nickname of _Ryoo-bud_ stemmed from your homeplanet. That moniker had been picked up by three of your allies from the splinter cell. It died with them as well.

 

The first went on a mission without you. There was no body, no remains brought back to the training camp. She had perished in the blistering cold, consumed by savage beasts that had devoured three other Resistance members. Silence had hung over the main base. The planet was deemed unusable for further training practices. It would have been you out there, you had thought, except you had begun your menstrual cycle and refused to start on any hormonal medications.

 

It was not that you were thinking of starting a family. That was the furthest thing from your mind. Something you had placed on hold. The potential side effects, you discovered by speaking with your fellow female Resistance members, sometimes were not worth it. It was nothing you were willing to risk.

 

For the second, you had been present for the body being burned. There was a brief hush, though not for the purpose of mourning. Not enough time. You were being moved to the next portion of your training. It haunted you. Solitary confinement as part of your training—the isolation could drive many insane. He was the only one to fall victim to suicide.

 

As for the third, he was one of your instructors, a man whom you respected. You had been staring through the scope of your weapon while his voice filtered into your ears. Encouragement. You _had_ killed. Horribly. Messily. Living targets were different than your training had prepared you for. Or hadn’t, as it were. You shuddered when recalling how you had missed the kill shot. Long-distance was more difficult for you to master than using a standard blaster. It was as you had been shuddering from your memory that the man beside you fired his weapon to eliminate the target.

 

But his weapon had backfired. The worst part of it was that he had not died. Like the First Order officer whose jaw you had blasted away. The wet gurgling led to more than a single nightmare. They had not trained you to kill your own comrades. That did not stop you from committing yourself to the act. Tears blurred your vision. The inside of your visor grew wet as they fell from your face.

 

You were no longer known as Ryoo-bud. You did possess other names. Trainee. More, recently it was:

 

“Meep.” You startled at the sound of your instructor’s voice. Recovering your bearings, you slouched in your seat and huffed. The helmet you wore may have obscured your eye rolling. It did not muffle your sound of annoyance enough. “Is there a problem?”

 

There was. Sort of. Ip referred to you as _Meep_ because you had stubbed your toe on a piece of equipment his first day with you. The noise you had released had quickly become your call sign. His real name was not Ip. That had not been given in order to protect him. Ip had not originally signed on with the Resistance to work alongside splinter cells devoted to killing top ranking officers in the First Order. There was a need for a senior LDS. Your cell had acquired Kylo Ren as a main target. A Force user according to those who had survived encounters with him.

 

“Pursuing Kylo Ren is much different than your previous targets. You need more training,” your instructor said, patting the top of your helmet. You nodded a single time in reply. “It is not certain that our target will be present. We will provide cover from a distance in case he is.”

 

One week with Ip, and you had mixed feelings about the man. You respected him. You also found yourself intimidated by him. If Kylo Ren did show up on the battlefield, couldn’t Ip just kill him? You were not very familiar with the Force. There were legends surrounding it, and things tended to get muddled or exaggerated. Ip was providing no insight, which frustrated you. The nickname was not your favorite.

 

Eight months of basic training, and you felt like an inexperienced child playing with a loaded gun whenever you were with Ip. This was not due to how he treated you. It was his skill level.

 

The shuttle shook again as it broke atmosphere. TIEs were already screaming, X-wings firing. Your allies kept fire from raining upon your ship, which allowed you and Ip to exit before the transport delivered the other Resistance fighters. The planet was desert. The red and black of your uniform did not stand out as much as you sometimes feared it would. A dark, blood red. Ip’s uniform consisted of the same shades, although its design was a little different. Black cloth was wound around his shoulders. On the first training exercise you had had with him, he had used that cloth to prevent the metal of his weapon from reflecting the sun. Now, he kept it on himself.

 

“Leave your weapon holstered.” His voice was low. There was no need for him to whisper. The pair of you were far away enough from the battle that no one would hear you. More ships, both Resistance and First Order, were entering the battle. One in particular caught your eye. “Mm. Intel was good.”

 

An upsilon-class command shuttle was in view. Black. Its wings folded in as it landed. TIEs deflected fire from the Resistance, chasing them away. Stormtroopers marched down the ramp of the command shuttle. They were followed by a figure in black. Your attention had successfully been diverted from the fighting itself. The sounds of gunfire. You could recognize the stormtroopers who were stunning Resistance versus those shooting to kill. Both sides were losing personnel.

 

A screaming TIE demanded your attention. You stared through your scope at it, the ship slamming into the ground in a loud explosion. There was more death and destruction. Your lips parted as you beheld the sight. It made you feel inconsequential. Helpless. Your finger skimmed along the weapon in your grasp. You weren’t helpless, you remembered.

 

Ip gestured towards the black figure that had descended the ramp of the upsilon-class command shuttle. The red plasma blade of the lightsaber cut through one then another of the Resistance members that had approached its owner. That same blade batted away a blaster bolt as another fighter attempted to stop Kylo Ren in his tracks. Your eyebrows rose in surprise.

 

_This creature is skilled._

 

“That’s Kylo Ren,” Ip informed you, beginning to prepare his weapon for firing. You turned your head to look at him, at his weapon. Your stomach flipped.

 

_“Oh, kriff… I… I’m sorry.” You had not known why you were apologizing. You had not fired the weapon, had not willed it to backfire. Aiming your blaster at his head to ensure he died and that his suffering ended, you squeezed the trigger._

 

Ip paused in his actions. He held onto the blaster with his left hand, placing his right on the ground. “Don’t shoot. Leave it to me—if I get a clear shot at him, I’ll take it.” It was as though he could read your thoughts. He had read the report you had filed in regards to the fate of your previous instructor. “Your nerves will get the better of you, and you’ll give us away.”

 

You did not waste any time attempting to argue with him. His words may have sounded cold, however he was looking out for you. What he had said was fact. You had just seen what Kylo Ren was capable of, deflecting blaster file in that way. And your last mission had involved you killing your own instructor. Ip nodded in the direction of the black figure again. You followed his gaze, witnessing the creature’s ability to deflect two more blaster bolts with ease. Kylo Ren twirled his lightsaber around in a circle before swinging it in an arc above his head, bringing it down through the body of another Resistance fighter. You grit your teeth, hoping that Ip would take the shot if he could.

 

“What species is it?” you asked, your expression tinged with disgust. Not that Ip would be able to see it. The same way you could not see his. Your helmets kept you both anonymous in that way. You hid the fact that you were each human so that you could fight monsters.

 

Those who fight monsters become monsters themselves.

 

Ip scoffed, huffing and shaking his head. “Human, Meep.” He rapped his knuckles against the sand. “Hard to believe, but this is a human.”

 

“No,” you said simply, shaking your head. “No, that’s not… You’re joking.”

 

“Not joking, Meep,” Ip insisted even as a Resistance fighter rose from the ground and was pushed backwards with an invisible force. Kylo Ren lowered his outstretched hand, twisting and angling his lightsaber to block more shots from hitting their target. You could not stop shaking your head.

 

He’s graceful, but…he can’t be human. He can’t be.

 

“Kylo Ren is human.” Ip readied his weapon once more, his finger over the trigger. When he did not fire at Kylo Ren, you wanted to scream. Your throat felt raw, your rage hot. It was not Ip who angered you. Realistically, you knew it would be foolish for Ip to shoot. Kylo Ren was on his guard. He was not distracted, not enough to where he wouldn’t be able to deflect the shot. And the moment he did, he would also learn where you and Ip remained hidden.

 

The creature moved effortless through the chaos of the battlefield. He sunk the plasma blade into the stomach of one of your comrades, whose face contorted in pain. There was pressure on your fingers. You looked down to find that you had reached for Ip’s hand, and the man had accepted it. His breathing was as heavy as yours. Muffled by his vocoder just as yours was. It was comforting to know that you did not have to be alone this mission.

 

Another ally cut in two. _Wet gurgling a heartbeat after your instructor fired. You felt sick to your stomach, knowing right away what had happened. It terrified you to look, but you would have to. The enemies would have heard the blast. You had to end it. Kill him, end his suffering, and get out of there._ Three Resistance fighters shoved away with the Force, right into the line of fire from the stormtroopers.

 

It was a losing battle. The moment Kylo Ren had arrived, that was when the victor had been decided. Those who realized this attempted to flee, some succeeding and the others meeting death. There was no way for you and Ip to leave until the First Order did. To radio for help would be leading others to their demise. You had to hope that you would not be discovered. Another squeeze from Ip.

 

That can’t be a human.

 

“Human, Meep,” Ip whispered. You were trembling, terrified. “These cells exist because of him. It was a precaution after a rumor… That rumor turned out to be the truth.”

 

“I… I’ll kill him,” you said. A promise that took on a questioning tone. The stormtroopers were starting to pile up the bodies of those slain by Kylo Ren. “What are they doing?”

 

“I don’t know. Probably identity checks.” Ip was less certain of this when the bodies were taken aboard the command shuttle. The two of you were alone on the planet through night. Your instructor had had the foresight to bring enough water and food rations to last the pair of you forty-eight hours. So long as you didn’t binge, that is.

 

You laid on your back, staring up at the stars as they grew brighter. The shadow of a Star Destroyer loomed above. It was not leaving the planet just yet. If it remained too long, the Resistance would not come for you and Ip when contacted. You were not thinking about the Resistance. In a way, your mind was not on the First Order either. It obsessively ran over the words that Ip had spoken to you. _Kylo Ren is human._

 

Lifting a gloved hand, you cupped the side of your helmet and listened to your breathing. It sounded like static, distorted as it was.

 

_Where did he come from then?_

 

Your father had told you stories since you were a little girl about monsters and heroes. Monster slayers. In some of the tales, you had had to accept that those who hunted monsters lost parts of their humanity. Some of them became the worst sort of monster. Is that how Kylo Ren had been created, you wondered. _What does it matter?_ You rested your other hand over your heart to feel it beating. _Could I become a monster?_

 

Waiting did not bother you in the least. Your training had prepared you for this. One could quickly lose all hope, could become irrational with the fear that they would be left on a planet due to the First Order’s presence. Braving the elements was a task you were ready to commit yourself to. Besides, you thought, you were not alone as you had been in your training. You had Ip.

 

“I killed my instructor.”

 

You spoke those words to break the silence that was allowing your mind to replay the scenes with Kylo Ren in an incessant loop. His body hidden underneath those robes. Face behind that helmet.

 

You seized either side of your own helmet, shoving it off of your head and gasping for a breath of fresh air. Ip turned his head to the side to watch your every move. He would have to include them in his report. On one level you knew that. On another, you were far more concerned with Kylo Ren. That creature. That human.

 

“No, he isn’t human.”

 

“Meep… The officers of the First Order are human. And…being human is not what makes you a good person. Admiral Ackbar isn’t human.” You felt your face grow hot at his words. He was right. The inadvertent bias you had been spewing was precisely the sort of remark someone from the fallen Empire would have made. You pressed the heels of your hands against your eyes while apologizing. “Don’t worry about it.”

 

He rolled up into a sitting position, and you followed suit. Ip withdrew a pack of cards from the small pouch he had been keeping the food in. You held out your hand. The man wasted no time handing you the deck, and you started to shuffle while humming a tune to yourself.

 

“They stopped calling you _KS_ ”—pronounced _kiss_ , standing for _killshot_ —“after last mission.” You nodded, continuing to rearrange the cards. “Does that bother you?”

 

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “There were always lewd jokes about _kissing ks_ and _kissy ks_.” You wrinkled your nose at the memory. The lighthearted atmosphere that had developed was possibly out of place. You didn’t know. War was not black and white, it was gray. “I haven’t even kissed anyone here.”

 

“It’s about keeping things relaxed. Joking. Forgetting about the war when you’re not in the middle of a battle.”

 

It stung, how that alone had you thinking about Kylo Ren once more. You imagined that creature interacting with stormtroopers and officers. Joking. Happy.

 

“Oh.” You followed Ip’s gaze upwards. The Star Destroyer had disappeared. “It made a jump. We should wait to make sure though.”

 

“Yeah…” The next words you spoke were not what you had intended. “Kylo Ren would not be kissing anyone.”

 

“Maybe that’s what he does with the bodies.” Your eyes widened at the joke. You did not know how you felt about it. Ip shrugged. “Meep, if you’re going to survive, be prepared for anything.” He placed his hand over yours, stilling their movements. “I can already tell. _You_ want to kill him. He was already assigned to be your target, but now you have committed yourself to that. You have to be careful, though. Don’t lose yourself chasing after monsters.”

 

“Otherwise: goodbye, KS.” Ip snorted, and you grinned.


	2. Chapter 2

**Ashes in the Wind**

 

**Chapter Two**

 

_ Resistance is Futile Ch 2 Companion _

_ Kylo POV _

 

Rabid Tooke

 

Two years and three months, nevermind the excess week and hours that had also been dredged up when he had been inside of her head. That number felt intimate in a manner it should not have. It was a duration Kylo Ren would have remained ignorant to had he not proven careless in his attempt to kill the Resistance fighter. He wondered for a passing moment if the intimacy stemmed from her gender. It was the first time the sex of his enemy had had an impact on him; a bias he had not realized that he possessed, believing it would be a man who survived being impaled by the blade of his lightsaber. That body atop the corpses, the one from which he had sensed life. When Kylo Ren had removed the helmet, the face staring up at him had caused him pause.

 

He had since ceased hesitating, aware that his Master would know in the end. Snoke was not shy when it came to berating his pupil, and Kylo had no interest in being chastised. His body moved half on auto-pilot. She was in his arms, not for the first time, as his boot steps began to echo off the walls. Sensing that she had been cold, uncomfortable, when he had reached out through the Force, curiosity had summoned him to her side. Curiosity and guilt.

 

This would be the second time you were allowed access to his quarters, where previously he had always been left in solitude.

 

_ The female was pushed into his quarters rather than her guard escorting her as had been ordered. Kylo Ren did not find himself annoyed, but instead pleased that he was able to invoke such fear. His own men were unable to find the bravery needed to enter his quarters. What chance did this girl have? Broken bodied. _

 

_ She did not crumple nor tremble in fear. Her eyes were starting to dart about the room. Kylo Ren found himself admiring her tenacity. She sniffed in indignation. The meager black cloth that provided her body covering, that was not quite what Ren had intended. Stripping enemies of their armor… The rubber caps on her teeth and the mittens, the chain, those were to keep her from harming herself. She was ready to die to prevent him from gaining access to her memories and knowledge. A formidable foe, one that realized she was not alone. _

 

_ She turned around, her actions less sure than they had been on the battlefield. Kylo Ren did not rise from his position on his bed, and the tray of food sat beside him untouched. Those eyes did not remain on him forever. The collection of ashes caught her attention. _

 

_ “Those are the newest.” His attention had fallen to the muzzle. She was like an animal. Rabid. Or so he had begun to tell himself. Kylo Ren stood, pausing long enough to observe her reaction. Her gaze had darted away from the ashes. She blinked. Her eyes lowered towards the ground, jumping back to his body with the first step he took. Kylo Ren dipped one of his gloved hands into the canister. He could not feel the ashes through the material. She was watching him,her anger palpable. _

 

_ This young woman was different than the others that had joined his mother’s cause. Kylo Ren furrowed his brow behind his mask. To distract himself, to  _ distance _ himself, he began tracing random symbols in the ashes. She was a means of gaining intel on the splinter cells, the ones that were devoted to tracking down officers...and himself. _

 

Kylo Ren dropped his prisoner onto his bed, paying only a fraction of attention to the fact that her body bounced as it hit the mattress. He had already started to turn away in order to enter the code that would seal her into the room with him. This fighter was ever observant. She had not relinquished hope that she would somehow escape. The young woman sought out every bit of information that she could then provide the Resistance with. A foolish endeavor, he thought.

 

He returned to his bed, the very same place he had been when before he had reached out with the Force and sensed her discomfort. At that time, however, he had not been wearing his mask. What reaction would she have to his face? His thoughts faded as he laid on his back, the Resistance fighter starting to scoot backwards, the material catching between the mattress and her body. It dragged downwards and revealed her cleavage.

 

“Is this a welcoming gesture?” The sarcastic taunt had fled his lips of their own accord. Shame rolled off of her. A minor victory. He had to break her in order to gain the information he required. She was strong willed. Kylo Ren extended his arm, seized the front of the material, and gave it a light tug to complete its journey below her breasts. The mask he wore prevented her from knowing that he did not look. He instead listened to her reaction, felt the mattress shifting as she angled away from him as best she could. “Perhaps if you asked for mercy, you would be humored.”

 

“I will die before I submit to you,” she hissed out, twisting her body as she spoke so that her back was to him. Kylo Ren did turn his head to observe her. He had heard the change in her voice. His prisoner was crying.

 

_ Intimate. _

 

He wondered if it was inappropriate to have brought his enemy into his bed in this manner. Though he did not take pleasure in ripping through the minds of others, it never stopped him. This was the first instance he had felt a sense of shame. How many others had he mistreated? Those others had never provided him with memories of their childhood. Not as this fighter had done; she sacrificed information about herself to save those she worked for. The memories of her father nagged at his mind. He felt a heat filling his body. Resentment. Jealousy.

 

_ Ryoo-bud. _

 

That had been the nearest to the information of the splinter cell he had gotten to. A nickname. She was from Naboo, and he had thought of a little tooke because of it. A small creature that he could have crushed easily in his hand. He had done worse than attempt to crush her, and still she fought him. Kylo Ren admired that strength.

 

He placed three fingers on the edge of the material he had tugged at, touching directly under her breasts. Kylo considered restoring to her a brief comfort; he would have adjusted the cloth had he not been so interested in breaking down those barriers of her mind. The mouthpiece of his mask touched the flesh of her back directly between her shoulder blades. She started to shake. Not quite out of fear, he mused. Anticipation. The Resistance fighter was bracing herself for another assault.

 

“You may be terrified.” She held her breath. Kylo Ren’s fingers shifted along the material again. He felt the alteration of her heartbeat through his mouthpiece. The vibrations tingled his lips. “If you could see behind my mask...you would be.”

 

His prisoner said nothing in response. Her heart continued to pound in her chest, a steady beating that slowed as time elapsed and he did not touch her. Kylo Ren knew that he should not have felt guilt—not if he was going by Snoke’s standards. On a more human level, it should have torn him apart. What he had done to this young woman already. What he prepared himself to do if necessary.

 

Kylo Ren held his breath as her body and mind at last gave way to exhaustion. He could theoretically peer inside her head, however his control over what he would see would be less than if she was conscious. Memories and fantasies would meld together, and he would be unable to know which was which in many cases. He thought of the flashes that she had offered up. The first one to snag his attention, to cause his prying to relent.

 

_ Her father poured the brown liquid into two mugs as she crossed her arms in front of herself on the counter. Her hands drummed out a tuneless beat, her torso twisting back and forth as she wiggled in her seat and swung her legs back and forth. Excitement bubbled within her alongside a feeling of joy that was unique to moments she was with her father. She adored him. The little girl thought briefly of the cocoa her mother had made for her in the past. A different joy, one unique for her mother. _

 

_ She licked her lips as her father slid the cup of cocoa, a special blend, in front of her. She was ignorant to the flicker of fear in his gaze. He worried that she would be disappointed in the treat. Her small hands grasped the cup and she prepared to take a sip. “Be patient,” her father said, his chuckle contagious and causing her to giggle whilst scrunching her nose. _

 

_ “I wanna taste it!” she said in protest, bouncing in her seat. _

 

_ There was a tender smile from the man. “Blow on it first.” Her father puckered his lips and released a steady stream of air over his own cup. She mimicked the actions, copying him when he lifted the drink for a taste. The childish squeal of joy. “I love it!” Her father reached forward with his free hand and caressed the side of her face. She leaned into his touch. _

 

The smuggler had not been quite so affectionate when Ben Solo had been alive. Kylo Ren felt envy anew at the stolen memory. Even with the war, despite killing, the Resistance fighter had not fully changed from being that girl. He sensed that from her. The same way he had sensed himself drawn to her.

 

Her firm belief that monsters existed kept him from removing his helmet in her presence. He wanted to first ensure that she could feel no pity for him. Kylo Ren feared he would reciprocate those feelings. His eyes widened behind his mask when he realized that he had begun to pet her hair. Kylo withdrew his limb, clenching it into a fist.

 

“Break for me.” Had she been awake, she would not have heard a command. The Resistance fighter would have known it was a plea. He latched onto the envy, urging it to grow into a deep hatred. Kylo Ren had made the mistake of remaining inside her head in the prison cell. Empathy would be his undoing if he allowed it. “You will break.” This time a statement.

 

_ You are the monster in my bed,  _ he silently told the slumbering form.  _ You are nothing.  _

 

Kylo pressed his body into hers, which resulted in her curling her legs towards her stomach.

 

_ “Lord Ren,” the lead physician began as he looked up from his patient. The other medics and droids did not pause in their work. Kylo looked away from the unconscious Resistance fighter. “There is extensive damage to her abdominal cavity. Your blade… Her uterus is fused to—” _

 

_ “I want her alive.” He wanted to delve into her mind, however would be incapable of properly doing so without killing her in her current state. Her organs were of no concern to him. The medical jargon spoken by the staff went in one ear then out the other, though a handful of terms stuck.  _ Secondary endometriosis.  _ Her wound was expanded by surgical blades in order to seal it; the previously cauterized flesh offered resistance. _

 

In truth, Kylo Ren had doubted the medics’ abilities to keep the prisoner alive. He had not believed, either, that she would cling so desperately to life. After all, he had felt her desire to join her comrades in the furnace. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. His prisoner did not stir, her breathing soft. He found himself holding his own breath to listen. Not that he doubted his abilities to sense if she passed away. He would feel that easily in the Force. It did not take him very long to fall asleep as well as he listened to her.

 

_ She smiled at him in a way no one had before. Tender, adoringly. Looking over her shoulder, she scrunched up her nose and stuck out her tongue. He sat at the counter while he watched her. His expression started to mirror hers. Soft. Familiar. His eyes ran along her body, the dress she wore clinging to her waist then flaring down, ending just above her knees. She stirred the boiling water though it was an unnecessary action. She wanted to hear him teasing her again as he always did when she made the cocoa. _

 

_ “You’re fighting a losing battle,” he said, his voice low. She pressed her legs together. Even without seeing her face, Kylo Ren knew that she was biting down on her bottom lip. She stopped stirring the steaming water, turned off the element on the stovetop, and poured liquid into the two cups. This time when she stirred, it was with a true purpose. She carried the mugs, one in either of her hands, to where he sat. His eyes dropped to her abdomen, to the blossoming red that was staining the front of the dress. “This is my favorite.” _

 

_ With a hum, she shifted onto his lap and rested her head on his shoulder. The steaming cups of cocoa were gone. In its place, one of her hands in his. The smell of grass clung to the air. They were on Naboo, the one of her childhood. “I’m dying right now.” She nuzzled his neck as she sighed in pleasure. _

 

A similar pressure on his throat tore him from the dream. Kylo Ren could feel his prisoner pressing her head against his neck, aiming for his windpipe. “How affectionate,” he drawled, winding an arm around her. Her actions ceased immediately, yet she did not pull away. She waited for  _ him _ to act. He did not.

 

It felt natural for him to hold her, as though the dream had spoken some truth. He could love her if he let himself…

 

She began to breathe once more, the woman having held her breath after he had spoken. Her toes audibly twitched back and forth. Kylo Ren wondered if this was what it was like to have a lover. Not some body to indulge with. If she had not been his enemy, he would have allowed himself more time to fantasize. Instead he thought of ways to make her hate him. The twitching of her toes did not cease. He could feel her shivering every couple seconds. Only then did he remember that he had pulled down her top. That was not something he could remedy easily, not if he wanted her broken.

 

Kylo Ren unwound his arm from her in order to cover her bare chest and shoulders with the blanket they were sharing. Her disgust amplified, and he knew he had done well. His Master would be pleased with him. His prisoner would learn to truly hate him. That was what he required. He could reciprocate the hate, dehumanize her, and defeat her. Nevermind his admiration for her strength.

 

She fell asleep first, the same as before. And he drifted off to find her waiting for him.

 

_ “It hurt,” she whispered, her bottom lip protruding forward in a pout. There was no anger in her voice, no accusation that he had purposely caused her discomfort. Kylo Ren held her wrist in one hand and brought her index finger to his lips. The blood had its usual coppery taste when he sucked on the digit. She clicked her tongue against her teeth. “You shouldn’t eat me. I’m toxic.” _

 

_ “I know,” he said. His eyes considered the thin cut and the tiny beads of blood that were developing along its length. “I’m sorry.” _

 

The apology sounded wrong even to his own mind. Kylo Ren looked to her sleeping form again. She was facing him now, all traces of hatred gone. He had her removed from his quarters in the morning, and for eleven days did not permit himself contact. It allowed her time to heal. For him, it was torture. The dreams had failed to end. They only grew in intensity.

 

_ Her hips shifted backwards as he tugged down her pants. She did not lose grip of her weapon, the one she had always aimed his way whenever he appeared on the battlefield. To crave his enemy this way… It was deplorable. Depraved. As he sunk himself inside of her, Kylo Ren found that he did not care. No one else had touched her this way. Only him. She threw back her head, the blaster at last falling to the ground so that her fingers could scramble against the ground. She was the the Resistance LDS with the most kills. The one they were entrusting his death to. _

 

_ “Touch yourself while I fuck you,” he growled. She shook her head. It was wrong. Growing up, masturbation had been frowned upon. She had never touched herself, not like that. She had never had an orgasm...until him. _

 

_ She twisted around, pulling away enough to where he slipped out of her. Kylo Ren shifted again to enter her. A red glow stopped him. He looked down to find his hand on his lightsaber, which carved into her stomach. Instead of crying out in pain, she threw back her head and laughed. She laughed at him, at what he stood for. His dream to bring order to the galaxy. The Resistance fighter reached up and peeled away her face. She was a monster. _

 

_ That should have stopped him from wanting her, yet it did not. He truly was depraved. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's shorter.

**Ashes in the Wind**

 

**Chapter Three**

 

_ Pre-Resistance is Futile _

_ Ip POV _

 

Birth of the Defense

 

The you that Kylo Ren could not touch even though he had gained a number when delving inside your head. The you that existed two years, three months, one week and five days before you became his prisoner. This was the you that Ip came to know.

 

_ A metallic clanging almost drowned out the sound: meep! Pained. Agitated. He never would have expected such a noise would emerge from the woman who had been capable of killing her instructor when the situation had called for it. But that was who released the  _ meep _ , and that was what his mind latched onto whenever he thought of her. _

 

Arriving at their base following the mission that had allowed Meep to see Kylo Ren for the first time, Ip observed how the senior member of the Resistance cell reacted to Meep’s behavior upon learning Kylo Ren was human. Her lips pinched. It was strange for him to feel guilty for telling the truth when giving a report. In this instance, however, he found himself frustrated. The woman was already voicing her belief that the younger LDS would be removed. His argument that this would not be necessary—that she was one of the most promising LDS for such a task—earned only a shrug and an  _ I’ll speak with the others. _ That, and the comment regarding a mark to be placed in her file.

 

He nearly missed catching Meep when the female, hands in fists, made to lunge for the woman. He hauled her backwards by her shoulders. There was little fight against him; that was another thing about her that he appreciated. She was not stupid nor, in most cases, too brash. The exception here was that there had been no rest following the mission. No time to truly unwind and reflect. Every good soldier needed that.  _ Ip _ needed that, and he would soon permit himself the chance to do so. Not at the expense of this young woman’s career. She came first.

 

If they had not removed their helmets, Ip would have missed Meep’s glare when she twisted around to glower at him. “I won’t fail.”

 

“I know,” he said, meaning those words as he spoke them and smirked. “Punching her isn’t going to change that. It’ll get you booted for real.”  Her pupils were dilated, a wild look in her eyes. He shook his head, knowing it would be wise to ensure she had time to rest. “You need to think about things beyond Kylo Ren.”

 

One would believe he had physically struck her with how she pulled back from him. For her credit, she did not lash out at him. She simply seemed hurt—and confused.

 

Ip had never before seen Kylo Ren in person, which allowed him to understand Meep’s reactions more intimately. Previously he had observed the Force user via holorecordings, most of which were riddled with carnage. Meep had not been given that advantage to prepare herself. Witnessing your allies carved in two with a lightsaber stuck with you. It altered your perception of the war. That was not including observing the Force in action. People tossed around like ragdolls. Life choked from them. Ip nearly felt guilty that he had chastised, albeit gently, Meep for stating that Kylo Ren could not be human. In retrospect he understood that she had not been harboring any racism or speciesism. His monstrous deeds were what she had been judging.

 

And he agreed with her on that assessment. She was ready to face this monster in terms of willpower though her skill set would need to be improved upon.

 

Ip could sense the irritability rolling off of Meep in waves as he escorted her to the showers then, when she was finished, the bunks. She did not enjoy feeling as though she was being babysat. Not that he could blame her; he had endured the same during his training days. It was when she lost consciousness that the reality of war hit him. It clashed so intensely with the expression of serenity on the slumbering woman’s face. She was less than a decade his junior from what he could tell, although life on his planet had roughened him up even before he had joined the Resistance.

 

He mentally went through the list of planets Meep had trained on as well as what skills had been the focus. Kylo Ren was not simply another officer of the First Order. He had control over the Force. There were stories of how the Sith of the Old Republic had broken the minds of others. Ip did not know if the dark-robed man had similar capabilities. He would not chance it. This young woman would need to know how to block out her thoughts, otherwise the splinter cells would be destroyed.  _ Everyone _ broke under torture eventually. Some quicker than others. If given enough practice, you could partially control just how you broke.

 

Ip hated to imagine the young woman who was presently slumbering in a position of torture. There was the age-old use of truth serum. They would have to practice with that. He would start her slow, he decided.

 

When he brought up what it was he wished to do, Meep stared at him as though he had grown a second head. Then screwed up her facial features. She was familiar with outward appearances. That would be useful down the road, although it also posed a problem.  _ He _ had to be able to read her to know if she was truly learning the lessons and honing her skills. On this, he understood her discomfort. This exercise would require a lot of trust, not to mention the physical toll it would take. Introducing a drug into the body’s system wasn’t something to be reckless about. In this case, Ip firmly believed that the ends justified the means. He hoped that she would never be subjected to torture. But he could not chance it. Her target was Kylo Ren. An extreme case that called for extreme measures.

 

“You ready?” he asked. He did what he could to keep his voice level. No faux-gentleness. She would scoff at that. Meep shrugged. She didn’t know what to expect. She had never experimented with spice either. The way she said it...he knew in that moment that her parents had been strict when it came to specific views.

 

He injected the sodium pentathol into her. They had a card game set out between them to kill the time. Ip reminded her verbally that she needed to remember to fight off truths no matter how easy it was to say them. Meep nodded and picked up one of the cards from the pile.

 

“You feeling okay?” Her  _ mmhmm _ was rather relaxed. They had gone through a hand of cards without either of them saying a word. Ip wanted to catch her off guard a little now that he had given her that reminder. “Do you think that Kylo Ren is a monster?”

 

“Yes.” No hesitation. That had been an easy question. He was setting a baseline. Her expression of  _ duh-are-you-stupid  _ was a nice touch, he had to admit. Ip asked her  _ why _ . “He kills people.”

 

“So do we.”

 

“No...it’s different. Not like that. Different.” Meep placed the cards onto the floor and leaned forward. She pressed her mouth into a thin line for a breath before asking: “Am I supposed to answer these questions?”

 

“Guard secrets. Give useless information. It’s the best advice I can give you.”

 

Ip could not have known that he helped create the you that Kylo Ren would develop an obsession over.

 

“The Resistance thinks highly of itself,” he intoned, falling into character. “The First Order will eliminate its enemies. You are no match for our might. So small…”

 

“A small tooke is toxic to a rancor,” Meep said by way of response. Giving information in response while fighting to conceal secrets.

 

“Is it really?” Ip broke character there. His mentee nodded emphatically. “Huh.”

 

“Tooke trap plants don’t have that same concern though.”

 

If she wanted to bore the First Order interrogators with Naboo fauna and flora, Ip thought, by all means, let her.


End file.
